


New Year, New School

by RedLaces



Series: Lovely Little Ficlets: Life coaches [4]
Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 09:02:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3128834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLaces/pseuds/RedLaces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Johnny boy!” Wes’s face took up the entire screen as he grinned toothily at his old friend. “How’s it going down under?”<br/>“It was alright until I got that beautiful shot of your nostrils.” John grimaced, “Sit back a bit, mate, give my eyes a break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Year, New School

“Johnny boy!” Wes’s face took up the entire screen as he grinned toothily at his old friend. “How’s it going down under?”

“It was alright until I got that beautiful shot of your nostrils.” John grimaced, busying himself with organising his books and shoving them into his messenger bag. “Sit back a bit, mate, give my eyes a break.”

 

“Yeah, whatever, Kiwi.” Wes grumbled in his thick Lincolnshire accent, moving back. ‘How’s New Zealand?”

“It’s alright. Very windy, so similar to Wexford. Ridiculously hot though, which-”

“-isn’t exactly Wexford. At all.” He nodded. “Man,” He groaned, pulling his face down with his hands. “I envy you!”

“Do you?” A flicker of misery passed over John’s face, and he dropped his pencil case.

“Yeah!” Wes didn’t notice his friend drop away from the screen to pick it up off the ground. He was too busy wandering his own imagination. “New school, mixedschool, nice weather, wicked-” He caught sight of his friend’s face. Immediately he backtracked. “Dude, no- You know I didn’t mean-”

“Yeah, I know. How’re Tom and Ethan?” he changed the subject, zipping up his bag and sitting it up against his desk.

“Uh, they’re good. Ethan did his drama piece.”

“Oh, yeah!” John remembered. “How’d that go?”

“Top of the class. According to Jensen there was a standing ovation.” Wes made a funny voice.

John laughed. “Do you reckon he knows what a standing ovation is?”

“50/50 chance he thinks it’s a yoga pose.” Wes retorted. “Oh!” He snapped his fingers and pointed at John. “Tom came out!”

“You’re kidding!” John gaped. “To who?”

“His entire Physics class!”

“How? Did he just announce it? ‘The answer is forty seven, also, I’m gay’?”

“Apparently! He said he wanted to wait to make a clever pun, but got so nervous he just needed to get it over and done with.”

“Well,” John leaned back in his chair, sighing deeply. “That’s that then, isn’t it? No more Kieron coming over for ‘Italian study’?”

“Oh, no, they still maintain that that ‘really is study’.” Wes rolled his eyes. “The only real difference is that Tom just seems, happier, I guess. More at ease, more optimistic.”

“Oh well,” John smiled. Picking up his glass of water. “Good for ‘em.” He took a massive gulp.

“And he’s much lazier with his porn.” Wes said quickly.

John turned his head just as he spat, sending it all over the left side of his desk. Wes erupted into laughter. John gave him a blank stare. “You timed that, didn’t you?”

He nodded erratically, continuing to laugh. “Down to the millisecond!” he managed to get out.

“Dick’ad.” John mocked his friend’s accent.

“Oi, don’t be mocking my hometown!” He wagged a finger at the screen. “You’re the one who’s apparently part Hobbit.”

“Nah, I think I’m just part asshole.” He looked at his keyboard.

“Ah, the old man didn’t turn out how you wanted him to?”

“I didn’t want him to turn out anything.” John picked at the loose thread on his old jeans. “I was hoping I was one of those bone-marrow babies.”

“Well,” Wes didn’t really have a response for that. “How’s Peter?”

“Oh no,” John looked at his friend with a bitter grin. “He’s not Peter. He’s Pedro.”

“What?” Wes screwed up his nose. “Is he Italian?”

“Nah, just a prick.” John spat, ignoring the leak of guilt that immediately appeared in his chest the moment he said it. “Must run in the family.”

“There’s gotta be some highlight.” Wes tried. “You made any friends?”

“Not really.” John replied reflexively. Hero popped into his head, and their trip to James. “Actually, I’ve met a few people. Pedro had a New Year’s party, and I met this-”

A loud squawking noise came from beside him, and John remembered the newest addition to his friendship group.

“The fuck is that?” Wes grimaced.

John grinned. “That, dear Wesley,” He picked up his computer and walked it over the birdcage. “Is Mr. Bex”

Wes’s mouth dropped open. “You’ve gone mad.”

“Probably,” John shrugged, sitting back down at the desk. “It drives Daniel nuts though. And Pedro isn’t the hugest fan when I feed him. At” John glanced at his watch. “5:30 in the morning.”

“Wow,” Wes whistled. “That-that’s kind of mean, don’t you think?”

“As mean, would you say,” Joh knitted his hands together and pressed his hands together so hard they hurt. “as going on a business trip, cheating on your wife with a fucking uni student and leaving her stranded in this other country with a fetus?” He smiled brightly.

“Nah,” Wes laughed nervously. “Probably not. Ah, so have you talked to Bex recently?” He asked, his nervousness changing tone. “Bex the first, that is.”

“She’s at beauty school in London.” John said, suspiciously. “I talk to her once or twice a week. Why do you ask?”

“No reason!” Wes squeaks before John could even finish the question.

“Wes,” John smiled slightly at the fear that cast over Wes’s face. “Have you talked to Bex?”

“Once. She called looking for you.” Wes blurted. “And then she talked to me. A couple times. Separate phone calls. And we met up for coffee in London whilst I was down there. Just friendly coffee.”

John raised an eyebrow. “Aah, good old friendly coffee, I see.” He picked up his phone and looked to the most recent message from Bex.

btw I’m going out with Wes. Just don’t tell him yet.

“Well, just remember.” He looked at the screen, his expression serious. “Bex is demi, alright? So she calls the shots on how far you two go.”

“Oh,” Wes’s hands raised immediately to the sides of his head like John was pointing a gun at him. “Obviously, yeah. I don’t think I’ll call the shots on anything.” He smiled giddly, and John rolled his eyes.

“Jesus, mate, when are you seeing her next?” John leaned back in his chair.

“Next week-”

A knock came at John’s door. “Come in,” He called.

Pedro’s head popped around the door. “Mum’s giving me a lift to school if you want to join?”

John looked at his watch again. No, no he hadn’t travelled two hours into the future. “It’s quarter to six in the morning?”

“Yeah, but you-” Pedro faltered. “I mean, I woke up weirdly early, and Mum wants to head to work early. Plus, I wanna get a bit of football practice done before tryouts.”

“Course, that’s gotta look good.” John said to webcam.

Pedro furrowed his eyebrows, looking at the screen. “Oh, hi!” He waved at the screen.

“That’s Pedro.” John told Wes.

“Oh, cool!” He raised his voice. “I can’t see you, man, come over this way.”

Pedro smiled, opening the door wide enough to fit his sports bag through, and walking over.

“Yeah, okay.” John frowned, cracking his neck. “We’ve gotta go, man. School awaits.”

“Alright, nice to meet you, Pedro!”

“Cool, bye!” John hung up, turning to Pedro. “Let’s go.”

Pedro frowned. “Okay, um, I’ll meet you downstairs.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder, turning around and shoving his hands into his pockets.

John turned back to the computer, shutting some of the windows he had a open.

A little box appeared in the corner.

Roary Robinson calling

John didn’t skip a beat, hanging up and putting his computer to sleep.

 -

“So, tell me again, what classes are you taking this year?” Pedro turned around and looked at John, who up until that moment had been looking out the window, wondering if he should try and call Tom and congratulate him, or if it was too late to call. Or if he should call Ethan, who would likely be wide awake, to russle his roommate from his peaceful, openly gay slumber.

“Yeah, John, what are you studying?” Anne caught his eye in the rearview mirror, smiling gently.

No matter how hard he tried, John liked Anne. Or at least when she reminded him of his aunt. Lesser so when she reminded him of his mum.

“Uh, English, Physics, Biology, Maths, and Society and Culture.” John listed, counting them off on his fingers.

“Ah, so a nice mix.” Anne nodded, turning into the driveway around the back of the school. “Pedro’s leaning more towards the arts, right, Pedro?”

“Sort of, um, I just like pottery I guess. And drama.” Pedro looked out at the school.

“Hmm,” John nodded. “I guess drama must run in the family.”

The right front wheel hit the curb, jerking the entire car. They sat in silence for ten seconds.

“Um,” Anne spoke quietly, closing her eyes and trying to remember what she was going to say. “Pedro, tell Hero that I can make Ester’s work party, and ask if I’m supposed to make anything.”

“Okay, I will. See you tonight.” he leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek before getting out of the car.

“See you.” She replied as Pedro shut the door.

John felt a tightness in his chest. Anne looked at him in the rearview mirror. He opened his mouth to apologize, but found the words caught in his throat. He nodded dumbly, opening his door and stepping onto the pavement where Pedro waited for him. The younger boy walked up to him, hanging his head. Pedro turned and started to walk up the hill towards the school, slowly enough that John could catch up.

-

They were silent the entire way, Pedro pulling out his phone when it buzzed and sending a quick two-word reply to a text from Claudio, who was waiting for him on the pitch.

They reached the back gate. Pedro pushed it open and walked in first, nearly smacking the door in John’s face. John caught it at the last minute. They walked through the science labs to what John could only assume was the main area of the school. Pedro stopped. John pulled up beside him, waiting patiently.

“Year twelves meet in the Quentin Hall,” He pointed straight ahead to a small, brick building. “My friends and I hang out at the two green tables outside the demountables at lunch,” He spoke in a monotone, an angry look still on his face. “You’re welcome to join us, if you think you can stand to sit with me. Hero will be there, if that helps.”

“Thanks, see you at lunch.” John squeaked, hanging his head and turning around.

He got two steps before Pedro put a hand on his shoulder and turned him back. “That was a prick move you just pulled in the car.” He nearly shouted.

“I know,” John looked at his shoes. “I-”

“Take it out on Dad, sure. He fucking deserves it.” Pedro continued. “Take it out on me, even, I get it. I got the life you always wanted-”

John felt like he’d been shot. “I never wanted-”

“But don’t take it out on my mum.” Pedro took a step forward, and John thought he might punch the scrawnier kid in the stomach. “She didn’t do anything to deserve what she got, and she’s more selfless than anyone I know.” He paused. “And if it wasn’t for her, you’d be in a foster home.”

 -

John held onto the strap of his messenger bag for dear life as he made his way to the Year 7 demountables. He didn’t know who to expect to see sitting at the two tables, or if Pedro was even going to let him sit down, but he didn’t slow his pace. If he stopped, or even considered another option, like maybe that girl Cora from his Biology class who sat next to him out of nowhere, he’d lose his nerve and back down. Instead, he thought about Hero, and how he hadn’t seen her in a week and had to tell her about that cool thing Bex did the day before.

He turned the corner and found six people sitting together at one of the two tables Pedro had mentioned. Most were conversing quietly, but two voices rose above the rest. One he recognised immediately as Meg’s, the girl he’d had a brief conversation with on New Year’s Eve. The other he quickly realised belonged to a lanky boy and came with a distinctly british accent. They were yelling across the table, something to do with the merits of a television show called Orphan Black. After a moment he spotted Hero, sitting next to Ben but ignoring his chatter completely and instead absorbed in a quieter conversation with a boy in a blazier with a ukelele case across his lap. After a moment she looked up and spotted him.

He smiled and quickened his pace. She smiled back and stood up, ready to announce him when-

“Hey!” Meg saw him and spoke first. “John! Come sit with us.”

Pedro, who’d been facing away from John, whipped his head around and looked at his brother.

John held eye contact with his brother, before raising his eyebrows very slightly and curling the ends of his lips. Truce?

Pedro showed no emotion with his face, but nodded.

He turned back to his friends. “Alrighty, everyone. This is John, my brother.”

John expected awkwardness, but it soon became clear that everyone at the table had known he was coming.

“Hey, John.” The boy with the ukulele waved.

“Sup,” John recognised the boy on his phone as Meg’s boyfriend, although he didn’t have to, considering how his hand was skating across the back of her knee, and her hand was in his hair.

“Nice to meet you.” A girl with a large camera looked at him down its lense and snapped a photo of him. He blinked, disorientated..

“SO YOU’RE BRITISH.” The lanky boy shouted. John took a step back instinctively.

“Ben, calm down.” Pedro put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Alright, um, let’s make this easy. State your name and year.” He pointed to himself. “Pedro, year thirteen.”

“Benedick Hobbes,” Ben practically sung. “Thirteenth year of education, eighteenth year of life.”

“Balthazar. Year thirteen.” The ukulele boy smiled at him. John smiled back, grateful for the sincerity yet modesty of the gesture.

“Hero, Year Twelve.” Hero nodded, grinning ear to ear.

“Good to know.” John let go of the strap of his bag.

“Robbie, year thirteen.” He flicked a hand in something that must have resembled a wave.

“We’ve already met.” Meg smiled easily. “Year thirteen.”

“Ursula.” The girl with the camera set it down on the table. Sorry about taking your picture. I can delete it if you want-”

“-No, it’s fine. What year are you in?” John shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Twelve.” She smiled.

“Okay, that’s everyone.” Pedro nodded, still not really smiling. “Can we make some room for the guy, please.”

Hero was already pushing against Balthazar as John made his way around the whole table to sit next to her.

“So, how’s Bex?” She asked, pulling an red apple from the lunchbox in front of her and taking a bite out of it.

“The first or the second?” He grinned, a green apple in hand.

“Hmm, the first.”

“She’s good. About to get asked out, actually.”

“Oh!” Hero looked mildly surprised.”Wes finally pulled together the courage?”

“More like I pulled it together and threw it at him.” He mimed the action using the apple.

Hero laughed.

 -

“How do they know each other?” Ben whispered to Pedro, sitting a little back from the table.

“I don’t know, they’ve been hanging out all holidays though. I think it may have been New Year’s?”

“Oh,” Ben’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “So they’re…?”

“I don’t think so. It’s not really a great time for either of them.”

“Right,” Ben nodded. “Where’s Claudio?”

“He’s in the library. Said he was studying for a French test.”

Ben winced. “Poor guy. I still don’t understand why they broke up?”

“Hero did it. Apparently she had some kind of asthma attack the day before.”

“Holy shit, is she alright?” They looked over at the laughing, smiling, seemingly in perfect health Hero.

“Dunno.”


End file.
